


You looked a Mess

by margaret_helstone



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, Hiccunzel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margaret_helstone/pseuds/margaret_helstone
Summary: "Will you tell me what it's really about?" He asked, examining the papers she'd left on the floor. "It's been ages since I saw you that frustrated about your art." A short story, inspired by Ed Sheeran's song "Perfect". Sweet and romantic, with just a little amount of sadness in it, justified by quite a lot of fluff. Hiccunzel modern AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**_'I found a girl, beautiful and sweet  
I never knew you were the someone waiting for me'_ **

* * *

 "You look perfect."

The girl winced at the sound of the familiar voice, surprised by his presence. She rose her head from above a book and looked backwards, though still not changing her initial position. She sent the newcomer a welcoming gaze and almost unnoticeably raised her right brow.

He was standing at the entrance, at the very place where the door was – where the door  _used to be_  – watching his fair-haired friend with amusement. He saw the question flickering in her eyes, but he ignored it, laughing softly underneath his breath and shaking his head in disbelief. The girl rolled her eyes and went back to her former occupation.

With his arm leaned on the empty frame, Hiccup stayed put for a few more seconds and then, not waiting for an invitation, he walked ahead. He went past his  _lost-in-thoughts_  companion saying nothing. As he reached a window, he turned around and, resting his hips on a low sill, he took up his previous observation, the slightly derisive smile not leaving his face for a moment.

The room, where they were staying wasn't big, but it didn't seem cramped either; quite the opposite, one could think that everything above that small metric area would be a superfluous whim. Of course, the young architect-to-be was perfectly aware where that feeling came from – a relatively wide southern window provided the best lighting for almost an entire day, while the recently painted green walls made it appear shipshape and clean. And the most obvious of things – in connection with the still on-going redecoration of the room, there was not a single piece of furniture left in it. Only paints, brushes and old newspapers sprawled in all possible directions. And a gold-haired girl sitting in the very middle of it.

Still hanging on the sill, the boy decided to break the silence.

"When you messaged me about spending the whole day painting, I imagined it a little differently–" he said casually, not taking his eyes off her. "You know, I am no artist, but I don't think you can do much with a book here."

The blonde raised her hand in response, constantly focused on the text. She was sitting cross-legged, with a tick volume rested on her calves, staring at the paper stubbornly, as if she was trying to find a meaning hidden between the lines. At the same time, her whole silhouette bore marks of her artistic struggles, that had undoubtedly been taking place just a moment earlier. Hiccup couldn't have  _not_  notice the multicoloured stains spread over her light shirt – over her tight, knee-high jeans – over her bare forearms. He saw how the girl used her tinted fingers to brush away the unruly wisps of hair, sloppily bound in a big bun, and realised that the hair itself was as much affected by the gooey substance as were her clothes.

' _That is_ _ **so**  Rapunzel...' _he thought, beaming.

He was ready to bet that her face was covered with an equal amount of paint.

With a nimble move, he pushed away from his support and approached his friend, taking a seat right next to her and still waiting for an answer; all in vain. Now it was for him to roll his eyes before he gently bent towards her and pointed:

"You'll smear the pages with that paint."

"Hmm." She murmured in answer. Not breaking her gaze on the book, she reached behind her back, and without the smallest difficulty, she found a stack of papers that was laid there. She caught it and put it down in front of her.

"Look, I've been thinking..."

"Mhm."

"...that maybe you'd find a moment..."

He stopped as he felt her hand on his lips. Before he'd managed to protest, she pressed it even harder and exclaimed:

"Thirty seconds, Hiccup. I need thirty seconds of peace."

He narrowed his eyes and gave her what in his opinion was a murderous death-stare; which, she obviously didn't even notice. Freeing him from her hand, she touched the sheets laying on the floor and took them. She turned her eyes on them and then shifted her gaze on the wall in front of her; she repeated the action more than once, raising her brows and frowning more times that anyone could think necessary. Eventually, she fixed her sight on the flat surface and sighed deeply.

"Do you think it will work?"

She turned towards him, with anxiety reflecting on her face. He looked at her doubtingly.

"What are you even talking about?"

"This catastrophe in front of me. Do you think I may succeed?"

"Was there ever a day you didn't?"

"Lots of times." She sighed again. "Lots and lots of times."

"No, that's how many times you thought so, and then you found a solution anyway."

"Maybe? Once… I guess." The girl stuttered, glancing at the wall again. "But  _this_  is a nightmare. The format scares me, the technique kills me, and the more I work on it, the more pointless it seems! It would've been better to give it up when I was still tinkering with that wretched project, which, by the way, was  _screaming_  that  _it was not_ a good idea. Plus, I spilt the paint and… ugh!"

She bent back rapidly and dropped onto her shoulder blades, her face instantly being covered with her hands. Nothing went as planned.

"Sorry, Hiccup. I'm a mess."

The young man watched her with a joy more and more distinctly reflecting in his eyes. His smiled widened, as he listened to the young artist's desperate tirade – and it had cost him a lot not to give a snort of laughter, when Rapunzel's back met the floor. He reached a hand in her direction and tickled her softly on the stomach. She twitched.

"You really are over thinking it. It's your room, your wall, no one has to look at it."

" _I_  will look at it!"

"Oh, I see. Wounded pride."

"Wounded sense of beauty! I won't be able to focus on anything, having such a monster here, right before my eyes."

"Put the wardrobe there."

"Very funny."

"What, is the wardrobe against your sense of beauty, too?" He peeked at her and saw that the girl had been observing him through her fingers. When they eyes met, she shaded them again.

She sighed, resigned.

"It's all your fault." She declared, lifting, and pulled her legs to her chin. She embraced them with her arms and transfixed, her forehead leaned on her knees.

"My fault." The boy bridled, "Sure, all the blame's on Hiccup. What have I done to you this time?"

"You told me to paint that wall."

"I beg your pardon. All I did was suggesting putting some bright element on it. I didn't mean you to wear yourself out, trying to reconstruct some half-magical symbols of a kingdom that has never really existed."

"No?" She glanced at him. Very, very sceptically.

"Of course I -"

" _But just think of it! A fresh, empty, green wall and a huge White Tree on it!_ " The blonde girl quoted with spite, gesticulating energetically. " _The White Tree of Gondor! I mean, how cool would that be?_ "

"I was  _kidding_! I never thought you might take it seriously!"

"Yeah, sure, and that enthusiasm of yours was all for show, too?"

"You're drama-"

" _I_  do not dramatise." She interrupted him. "And for your information, I usually try to take your ideas seriously."

There still was a note of pertness and feigned indignation in her voice; but the corners of her lips were twitching and her eyes laughed quite openly. She closed them and took another deep breath. It was seconds later, when they were both sitting still, staring at the common spot in front of them.

"You really must stop that." Hiccup spoke after a while. "This constant sighing can't end up well."

"I have my reasons. One of them is right ahead of you."

"Let's say so."

"Maybe you're right? About the wardrobe."

"Oh, come on."

"Seriously. I've painted so little that a chest of drawers would be enough to hide it."

The dark-haired man tilted his head, adopting a role of an expert, judging the latest work of a promising artist. He compressed his lips.

"That would be a shame. You've created a very pretty trunk."

Both of them laughed, relieved. Rapunzel got up from her place and made her way to the started picture, mildly dabbing the already dry paint with her fingers. It was good to feel at least a little bit more confident.

"Will you tell me what it's really about?" He asked, examining the papers she'd left on the floor. "It's been ages since I saw you that frustrated about your art."

"I just can't visualize this. I can't download a template from the Net and rescale it because that simply won't look good here. This tree isn't…"

"...effuse enough?" Her companion hinted, studying the printouts.

"Exactly. I need to alter it, but I have no idea how."

"And that's why you're splashing the paint on _The Return of the King_?"

She shrugged slightly.

"I'm looking for inspiration. Trying not to diverge from the original."

She bowed her head, fastening her eyes on the floor between her bare –  _as always –_ feet. Hiccup rose slowly and stood next to her, perfectly understanding, that the fateful painting was only one of many reasons of her current mood. And that it was probably the least important of them all.

"I think professor Tolkien would be touched by your investment."

"If so, then I guess it's worth the pain." She smiled weakly and glimpsed at him fleetingly, before she fixed her gaze on the ground again. She refrained from another sigh. "It was supposed to help me rest. You know, to drag me away from everything that has happened lately, all that nervousness and confusion, which had tired me so much. And what could be better than re-painting the room on my own in the very first week of holidays?"

He looked at her more attentively.

"You're saying it as if was about your exams."

"Because it was."

"I wished I could believe that."

"You can. I love this course, but the last weeks were worse than awful. Really." She added after seeing her friend's doubtful expression. "And to run away from the pseudo-intellectual linguistic gobbledegook, I moved the furniture out of the room and started the cleaning."

"All by yourself?"

"The girls helped me with the equipment before they left." She answered flatly, turning on her heel and walking back to the bedroom's centre. "I managed with the rest myself. And you know, I really did rest for the first couple of days. Looks like the solitude is doing me well."

Her voice trembled a little, while pronouncing the last sentence, although she still hoped that her momentary weakness remained unnoticed. She sent Hiccup a friendly smile, as if she wanted to assure him that she was all right. She sat down on the floor.

The boy kept an eye on her all along, wondering how he should provoke a conversation his friend unquestionably needed. With his hands inside his pockets, he weighed up a few potential strategies and finally, he tried: "But it's not like you've quarrelled with them?"

Her eyes widened in sudden astonishment.

"What? No, I haven't. Why would I..."

"I don't know, I'm only asking. Ruling out the possibilities."

"No, no, really." She contradicted, shaking the light wisps. "Everything's fine. I just wanted… needed… to stay alone for a while. Without them. _"_

"Without them?"

"Don't get me wrong. They're wonderful, both of them. Heather can be the sweetest confidant and Astrid…"

At this point her voice failed her, cracking at the least appropriate time. She bit her lip in embarrassment and finished quietly:

"Astrid is just as kind."

Hiccup frowned, not understanding the fair-haired girl's unexpected hesitation.

"So Astrid's the problem?"

She shook her head.

"I thought you adored her."

"And I do!" She cried eagerly, like if she was afraid Hiccup would misunderstand her words. "I think she's fantastic, even though we differ so much… I have always said so and I'm not going to change my mind about it now. I'll tell you more – if I had to choose between the two of them, I'd choose Astrid. She's an excellent friend and she has never,  _ever_  let me down… she would never hurt me. But even friendships like this one need a break from time to time. We both agreed that this is the moment when  _we_  should take that break."

She was staring at him stubbornly, trying to convince him not only of her telling the truth but also of believing in what she'd just said. Then she knelt on the flooring and began to collect the newspapers which lay on it, even though she wasn't entirely sure why she was doing it.

She just felt very, very tired.

"I don't like it." She heard a moment later. "You're not telling me everything and I can't help you, until you do."

"You won't do much here anyway. Not this time."

"Lily!"

"What? You expect me to have a cry on your shoulder? Besides, since when you're using my real name?"

"No. Just, no." He approached her, grasped her elbows and with a dapper move, he pulled her up, making her stand on her feet. "What the heck is going on here? Stop wriggling, Rapunzel, I will not let you go until you explain all that mess and  _why_  it's affecting you so much. I'm not kidding."

She glanced at him with irritation, but seeing that he was not going to give up, she turned away. She could sense his anticipating gaze, but she was still unable to look straight at him. Eventually, all she did was mumbling: "Eugene."

"Sorry?" He asked, as he hadn't heard her lowered voice.

"Eugene." She repeated.

"What about him?"

"Eugene and Astrid. Astrid and Eugene. Nothing more."

She felt her friend's grip loosening, and she took her chance to free herself from it. She stepped back, waiting for his reaction.

Hiccup, on the other hand, looked as if someone had just declared the state of emergency in the whole country and he didn't have the slightest idea what could be a cause of it.

"You must be joking."

"No."

"Astrid Hofferson is dating Eugene?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"About a month, I suppose."

" _What?!_ "

"Please, Hiccup, don't."

"A  _month_? And for all this time you haven't said a word?"

"Why should I?" She threw in at last, annoyed. "What would it change? Nothing, Hiccup, absolutely nothing. I told you, you can't help me this time and as much as I regret it, it is true."

Her eyes sparkled with tears, of which she'd been so afraid coming. She didn't want to cry, didn't want to show how much she cared, how much it all still meant to her. She felt that after all the months that had passed, she should no longer react in this way; moreover, for most of the time, she truly managed to believe, that she'd already obtained all the emotions whirling inside of her.

Once again she was forced to admit how very mistaken she had been.

When Hiccup first heard the news of Astrid's new conquest – for he didn't doubt for a moment, which of the two caught the other's attention first – he wanted to snort with disbelief and then burst into laughter, seeing the absurdity of the entire situation. But it was enough for him to glimpse at the young woman standing in front of him – to notice her lips, trembling more and more intensely – to forget about all the sarcastic comments that were springing to his mouth and focus his entire attention on her and her only. As he saw the tears, he moved towards her without hesitation and, putting his arms around her frail figure, he pulled her close in a tender embrace.

"I'm so, so sorry..." She sobbed faintly, her face snuggled against his chest. "I thought I was done with it but..."

"Shhhh." He muttered. He was keeping her close, as if he wanted to convince her, that her apology is not at all necessary – and that she herself was in the most proper place to be. He rested his lips on her hair, fighting an urge to kiss it. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"So much time..."

"Time means nothing."

"I thought I was over it."

"Everyone thinks so; and everyone's equally wrong."

He stood still for some time, allowing her to have a good cry and let go of everything that was bothering her. After the first twenty seconds, he started to sense, that her weeping was slowly dying, replaced by the quiet tears, slipping from under the girl's closed eyes. Her breath calmed down and only a regular sniffing reminded of her present condition.

He cleared his throat.

"Look, how about this. I'll pop out for some coffee, get the Chinese food, we'll sit down at the table, and you'll tell me everything I need to know. And if not, we can just sit silent together over the chicken and caffeine."

"I don't like Chinese food." She answered, raising her head and wiping her eyes with a hand. But she was smiling at him, and her sight was fulfilled with enormous gratitude. "And I have my own excellent coffee. But I like the idea."

"Alright, then we may agree that I'll take care of coffee and lunch… and you will take care of  _this_ –" he nodded his head at the started painting, releasing her from his clasp. "Deal?"

"Deal. On the one condition that I won't regret your culinary show-off."

"Ouch."

"Hiccup, you can't cook."

"I can't  _bake_." He emphasised, waving a finger before her nose. "And that, Your Highness, makes a huge difference."

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

"Wonderful. Now I need to see you working. Oh, come on." He added, seeing she had second-thoughts. "You know you can finish it. Besides, you really can't leave it like that. What will you say if someone actually asks about it? That on your wall you have a great and mighty White Trunk of Gondor?"


	2. Chapter 2

**_'I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know_ **   
**_She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home’_ **

* * *

They had both kept to the terms of their agreement, determined to fulfil the duties resting on each of the parties. Rapunzel once again laid out the newspapers, putting them on the floor, that was now exposed to splashing; and rolling up the sleeves of her checked shirt, she started to cover the wall with new layers of the light paint. Before she knew it, her work was interrupted by Hiccup, inviting her to the table with a kind bow. As she stepped into the kitchen, she was greeted by the tastiest, most wonderfully smelling gnocchi al ragù she had ever had a chance to try.

As in confirmation to the young man’s assumptions, they dined in a perfect silence.

When they finished, he forced her to leave him all the cleaning and go back to work herself. She opposed him for a moment, until he reminded her what a fleeting thing inspiration is – and how important it is to use every second of its presence. Then she yielded, not missing a chance to roll her eyes as she left the kitchen.

Now they were standing before the wall, arm in arm, eyeing the contour in front of them. She judged her work carefully, compressing her lips and frowning – he scratched his chin almost theatrically, narrowing his eyes and smacking quietly.

Eventually, the lad decided to pronounce his thoughts out loud: “Well, yes. Miss Corona, I think we can call it a progress. You definitely have developed your skills. The Academy accepts your project.”

“It may work after all.” She answered, pretending she hadn’t heard the derisive note ringing in his voice. “Only, it seems…”

“Not effuse enough?”

“Ha, ha. No.” She elbowed the boy, not even glancing at him. “But something’s off.”

“Here we go again. For once in your life, can’t you acknowledge that you’ve simply succeeded? That perfectionism of yours is getting morbid. That thing needs treating.”

“As long you can see your mistakes, you’re able to correct them.” She retorted with confidence, her gaze still fixed on the wall. “That’s how you reach perfection.”

“It’s also how you lose your health. _Mental_ health.”

She nudged him again.

“You know, you should be the one urging me to work.” She threw in, shifting her sight on him. “Pointing my errors and the like, not convincing me that whatever I do I do well. I won’t achieve anything, if you don’t.”

“I _do not_ believe it.” Her friend flung his arms into the air and then rested his hands on his neck in a resigned gesture. “I have spent the whole flipping day driving her to that wretched painting and all she does is tell me that I don’t motivate her! That I slow down her artistic development! What, don’t you want to state that it’s my fault it’s taking so long, too?”

Rapunzel didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out a hand with damp brush that she still held, and with a brisk move she stroke his face, leaving a thick, light line on his cheek. He jumped back as if he’d been stung, which only caused her repressed laugh to resound with its full loudness.

“Hey!” Hiccup cried, putting his hand to the sullied place in a reflex action and scowling, as he realised the density of his own doing. “I haven’t spent the last eight hours avoiding this paint so you could smear it on my face now.”

“Oh, _come on_.” She replied, using the words so commonly used by himself. “It’s just a bit of acrylic.”

“Just a bit of acrylic.” He mumbled sarcastically, as if he really resented her for that petty trick. “And what if I’m allergic to it? What if I swell and end up dying in a sad, hospital bed?”

“Then I’ll make sure to stay with you and hold your hand until the last breath of yours. I promise.”

“Oh, now I’m cheered up.” He snorted and with a smirched finger, he touched her nose. “Here you go. A bit of acrylic to highlight the freckles. What a shame you’re covered with paint from head to toe anyway.”

“The difference is, I don’t make it sound so dramatically.” She shrugged and waved the brush before his eyes, as if a threat of using it again.

He stepped back, increasing the distance between them, hoping it would make him safe and ignoring Rapunzel’s laugh that soon followed.

“I wonder what’s the cause of it. Oh, wait, I think I know. Maybe it’s the fact I’m not wearing my working clothes, that are only destined to hide under all of these stains?”

“You’re exaggerating again.”

“Yeah, sure. But you should keep in mind that I don’t have any other clothes to change in.”

“And…?”

“Have you ever thought I might like to go out? You know, to the city, to some other people… How can I show myself to anyone if I’m all covered with white paint?”

She looked up at him more attentively, clearly disorientated. She lowered her arms along her body; Hiccup could bet he saw her frail fingers nervously tightening on the brush’s handle. He smiled, noticing her anxiety.

“You’re leaving?” She asked, strangely amazed.

“I’ll have to eventually, won’t I?” The man answered negligently. “I suppose I’ve been bothering you long enough. Besides, I have one very important meeting scheduled for tonight.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She almost whispered and turned towards the cans she had left on the floor, intending to make the room usable again. She was trying to grasp what had made her believe that Hiccup would keep her company that evening – after all, he’d entered her room before noon and it was almost eight now. Why would he devote more?

She probably wanted to stay with him a little bit longer, that’s all.

“It’s nothing special, really,” She heard him say after a moment. “But it would be a pity to miss it. You’re done with painting?”

“Yes. I won’t finish today anyway and it’s getting dark already.” Her quiet, but determined answer resonated. “What kind of a meeting is that?”

“Ah, just one old friend who seems to have taken a bit too much upon her and apparently needs a talk.”

“Hm.”

“So, you do understand that being soiled with paint isn’t exactly what I’d want to be at the moment.”

“Sure, I get it.” She turned back to him and sent him a weak smile. “Fortunately, it’s nowhere but on your face, isn’t it?”

“And my hand.” Hiccup returned a smile. He was staring at her constantly, unable to miss the disappointment reflecting on her face. He realised that the sight pleased him much more than it should have – which didn’t really matter as he was equally conscious that there was nothing he could do about it.

“When do you leave?” Rapunzel cut off his meditation.

“That depends on the said friend of mine.” He replied and his clean hand went up, combing his luxuriant brown hair. A second was enough to make him look very uneasy about the situation. “I haven’t mentioned it to her yet.”

Rapunzel straighten up and gave him a glare. It wasn’t surprised, it was... _disbelieving_. She wasn’t sure she’d understood him correctly.

“Hold on,” She answered with a sudden sternness in her voice. “Are you telling me you’re meeting with a girl this evening, this _moment_ almost… and she still knows nothing about it?”

“Well, kind of. In a way.”

“Hiccup, what if she has other plans for today?”

“She doesn’t, I made sure of that.”

“Or if she doesn’t like being surprised?”

“It’s _kind of_ a surprise.”

“Or if she simply doesn’t want to see you?”

“Then I’ll sling her over my shoulder and carry her away by force. Seriously, Raps, why are you so much against it?”

“I’m not against anything.” She snorted, looking away. “But I think I can understand her perspective better. You think you’ll pop in and sweep her, taking her on a romantic dinner while she may prefer to spend her evening on front of the TV screen, watching BBC costume dramas and musicals from the ‘50s. She may have no make-up on and hair that looks like your worst nightmare. She may not want you to see her in that state, no matter how fond of you she is. This doesn’t have to be the case, but I guess you should consider other options, too.”

The young man kept staring at her with an obvious astonishment.

“Wow. I didn’t see _that_ coming.” He admitted, positively impressed with her short speech. “If I ever intend to make a date of this sort, I’ll most certainly hire you to work out all the tactics. Unfortunately though, today’s meeting doesn’t promise much romance for me.”

“You know it hardly changes anything?” She asked severely.

“May be. So what do you suggest I do?”

“Call her. Take soundings. Or better yet, try to invite her in some sober, civilized way. Oh, and I would recommend to resign from sliding anyone over your shoulder.”

Once again, she was bending above the cluttered floor. She didn’t notice him stepping closer – turning back and suddenly finding herself face to face with him had almost made her jump.

“What again?”

“Nothing. Trying to follow your orders.”

“By creeping up on me? What am I to do, pass you the phone?”

“You could start with not interrupting me for a second.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to confirm. She didn’t. “Okay, listen. I’m not going to quarrel with you on that, as you’d probably turn out to be right anyway. That is why I’ll only ask you one simple, but also extremely important question – if you want your teaching to be of any use, you must give it a _‘yes’_. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to come back to my previous methods. So...”

He cleared his throat.

“My dear Rapunzel, would you make me this honour and agree to brighten up my evening with your precious company, strollingdown the streetsof our beautiful town, drinking coffee and generally doing lots of silly, unnecessary things?”

She gazed at him, totally dumbfounded.

“Did you just… ask me out?”

Hiccup sighed unenthusiastically.

“ _Kind of_.” He answered. “But above all, I want you to go _outside_ ; I think you’ve been locked up within these four walls for way too long. Really, Rapunzel, a week in a seclusion is definitely too much, especially, if you’re accompanied by no one but your painting equipment. I’ve spent eight hours here – and I’m sick already. And I know from my own experience that escorting you is the only warranty that you won’t return home after a 15 minutes long walk."

The girl bit her lip, surprised by not only the offer itself, but also by the extremely strong argumentation behind it. She understood that Hiccup’s decision wasn’t spontaneous, that he’d planned all of his actions much earlier.

He must have cared for her more than she’d realised.

She sent him a gentle smile, filled with gratitude and nodded, letting him know she accepted his proposition. She giggled softly at the sight of his noticeably relaxed face. In response, the boy assumed the typical ironing expression and gave her an almost pitying look – as if she was his younger sister, whose silly, yet adorable pranks he had to bear. Not for the first – and certainly not for the last – time, she rolled her eyes.

“The only reason I’m doing it is because I don’t like to be carried away from here, especially by you. You’d better remember that.”

“Look at this. Have you finally started to treat my threats seriously?” He showed his teeth in a grin. “I wouldn’t dare to hope to ever see that.”

“There was one time when I could experience the pleasure of acting a sack on your shoulder. One too many.”

Hiccup sighed miserably.

“Oh, well. And I have already begun to believe that you were persuaded by my fascinating personality, my undeniable charm or at least the way I’ve introduced my offer!”

“Oh, not at all. The mode of your declaration has only spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner. Under any other circumstances you could not make me the offer of your company in any possible way that would tempt me to accept it.”

“ _What?!_ ” Hiccup clutched his head, widening his eyes at the blonde girl in front of him, the one who was currently laughing right in his face. “And you dare to call _me_ a quote-freak?! No, you know what, if we’re getting into the Miss Austen phase, I back off. I drop out, give up, leave – and you’re free to sit here for the rest of your life, with the Professor and your great White Trunk.”

“Hey! I finished painting the branches more than two hours ago!” She snatched the closely laid brush and threatened him with the terrifying tool, only this time, her friend didn’t move an inch. “And you can still get a few white spots on your shirt.”

“Would you really do that?”

“At the drop of a hat.”

“But you remember you’ll have to show up in public with me later?”

“Do I really…” she threw in nonchalantly, fiddling the instrument in her fingers. “I can still change my mind.”

“Alright, that’s it. Give me the brush back.”

A few moments later he was holding her in his arms, doing his best to take the wretched instrument away from her. At the same time, she was scuffling, futilely trying to reclaim freedom. When Hiccup had eventually reached his aim, tearing the brush from her hands, and as a result loosened his grasp, she gracefully dived back. Resting her hands on her knees, she leaned forward, breathing heavily – her eyes were wet with tears, caused by the girl’s constant laugh, however, she didn’t even care to wipe them away. Once more she tried to regain her possession, but Hiccup raised his hand far beyond her reach. Even though he might have not been tall, the difference of height certainly wasn’t to her advantage.

“Fine, you win.” She panted. “I’ll go with you.”

“Frankly speaking, I’ve never thought you wouldn’t. You have already agreed, haven’t you?” He glanced at his watch. “But we’re chit-chatting and the time is running out. Are we leaving now or do you want to powder your nose?”

“I want to change!”

“Really? But those painting togs suits you so well. OK, so how much time do need exactly?”

“It all depends on how long I’ll have to fight _this_.” She pointed on the numerous stains on her skin. “Besides that… not much. Fifteen, twenty minutes for all.”

“I’ll give you twice as much and we’ll see if it’s enough.”

Before he had managed to pronounce the first half of the sentence, Rapunzel was out of the room. He shrugged and stepped into the kitchen, intending to get rid of the paint that still embellished his face – he returned to the bedroom then and, reaching for the tainted volume of their beloved novel, slowly sunk in his reading. He smiled, hearing the water’s babbling, Rapunzel’s humming and her indispensable singing in the shower. After twelve minutes of this sort of noise – he checked the time precisely – he was approached by the girl’s determined, nearly warlike voice, coming from behind the bathroom’s door.

“Look, I know that the time is almost up, however, I’m still in the midst of drying that awful hair of mine. I can make that on time, but there’s just no way I’ll manage to braid it. What do we do with that?”

“You can always decide not to braid it at all and try to win this race.” He shouted back, with his sight constantly fixed on the book. “I’m sure you’ll look good with your hair loose.”

“You got to be kidding me.”

He had no time to answer, as the adjacent room was once again filled with the sound of an electric hair-dryer, which pretty much cut off all of the potential talk. Convinced that his friend wouldn’t show up for the upcoming quarter, he shifted a little, making his position a bit more comfortable and, having his eyes on the text, he got lost in his own thoughts. Thus occupied, he no longer cared for the burbles that advanced him – Rapunzel would’ve probably had to break the huge, wall mirror to bring him back to reality.

She left the bathroom just a moment later, though, not realising Hiccup’s spiritual absence. Stepping briskly, she covered the distance that had been separating her from the green room, in which he was staying. She stopped at the threshold, her gaze unfocused. She’d slung her hair over her shoulder and now she was just about to finish braiding it in a long, complicated plait.

“I swear, one day I’ll lose my patience and cut it, so it will be no longer than to cover my ears. I will cut and dye it, and you guys will have no justification for you stupid nicknames.”

When she eventually tackled the long twines of her hair, she looked up at the man standing on the opposite side of the room. Bent on the window sill, he was settled in a very corner of the room. Rapunzel’s eyes flickered in a sudden excitement.

“Hey!” She cried with cheerful enthusiasm. “You match!”

On that call, Hiccup scrambled and raised his glare on the blonde girl that had been observing him, equally pointing at him in an ambiguous gesture. He frowned, trying to understand her and then looked down, examining his own silhouette. He fixed his gaze on his light green shirt – he glanced back at the wall behind him.

He got it.

“But this is perfect!” He heard the girl’s twittering, who had to cover her mouth in disbelief. “It is exactly the same hue, only the textures differ… How could I miss that?”

The boy opened his arms and smiled helplessly, although he didn’t refrain from a comment; “Well, if I match the wall behind me, then you certainly match the tree.”

Now it was her that was forced to look at her own wardrobe and laugh. Now he could finally give her an attentive look.

She was standing at the doorstep, dressed in a simple, yet chic dress. Snug around her torso, it beautifully accented her shapely waist, while the tapering shoulder strips discreetly drew the observer’s attention to their owner’s slender arms. The fine material of its skirt moved about with the her every motion, as if it was dancing around the girl’s legs. It reached down to the knees. The dress was tied in the middle with a fair, lilac sash and that was also the colour of the ribbons one could see between the lengthy strands of the golden braid. The latter ended a little beneath Rapunzel’s shoulder blades, but Hiccup knew that the loose hair would touch her hips at least.

With the joyful expression of her sparkling green eyes she looked so innocent and fresh, and yet so absolutely haunting, that he himself could only wonder what kind of an idiot one must be to voluntarily reject such a phenomenon.

Even if the replacement was Astrid Fearless Hofferson herself.

His heart skipped a little, but he welcomed the fact equably, finding nothing new in it. When Rapunzel finished another of her twirls, he carefully looked at her freckled face, amused, as he noticed a white line right beneath her left eye. How it managed to remain on its place, he could not tell, but neither was he going to share his observation, wondering when – and _if_ – the girl would detect that little addition.

He pushed away from the sill and set off in her direction.

“You know, if I match the colour of the wall and you match the picture painted on it...” He reeled up, leaning gently towards her. “We might actually have a chance to look quite presentable together. In an artistic way, of course. Would you allow me?”

He offered her his arm in a most considering manner and transfixed, waiting for his friend to link hers with it. A smile didn’t leave her face when she curtsied gracefully in an answer; when she suddenly twitched, as if she remembered something and having taken her hand back, she bit her lip.

Was it something he did?

“You’re okay?” He asked, straightening.

“Yes, yes, sure.” She replied vigorously. “It’s just… It will get chilly soon. I can’t leave without a shawl, can I?” She added, laughing softly and run away in search of a necessary wrap.

Hiccup raised his eyebrows ironically, meditating on his luck, thanks to which he was able to lose to some cursed piece of wardrobe. He walked into the corridor, where Rapunzel was finishing to fold the violet fabric, in a tint a bit darker than the sash she was already wearing.

When she put it into the small linen bag and declared her readiness, all Hiccup did was motioning toward the door; shaking his head, he answered:

“Fantastic. Let’s get out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

‘ ** _W_ _e are still kids, but we're so in love_ _  
_****_Fighting against all odds_ _  
__I know we'll be alright this time’_**

* * *

 

It did surprise her a little...

“How did you even get them?” She asked as Hiccup had closed the door behind them, and then had fastened all of its locks.

He looked at her, astonished, as if he didn’t understand the question.

“You have your own keys?” She said, completely aghast.

“And how do you think I got inside this morning?" He replied. "Through the balcony?”

“No, but… It’s not fair!”

“Just come here!”

The boy gave her an urging glare, reinforced by the meaningful movement of his right hand. He was already standing in the midst of the stairs, waiting for his fair-haired friend to finally decide to leave her place in front of the door. She did that, but her expression told him she wouldn’t let him change the subject of their talk.

“Hiccup, this is not okay.”

“What again?”

“There are three people, who have keys to this apartment – Astrid, Heather and I. And it should stay this way.”

“And don’t you think it would be safer if someone else had it when you’re staying there all by yourself?”

“This is exactly when _no one_ should have it.”

She almost jumped over the threshold, leaving the building with a determined gait, hastily getting past the boy, who held the door for her. Hiccup had to run up to draw level with her in the lane on which she was scrolling with such an eagerness.

“Look, it’s not like I’ll get into your house at 3 in the morning. I wouldn’t have got in on my own at all, if only you responded to the bell.”

“It’s just strange to think you have them.”

She stopped, gazing at him without anger, yet not entirely neutrally. Wonder reflected in her bright eyes, accompanied by some special, unconcealed reproach.

“Okay, fine.” Hiccup sighed. “Those are not my keys, but Heather’s. She left them in my car after I drove them to the airport last week and I simply didn’t have the chance to return them. You can believe me or not, but I was going to give them back to _you_. Come on, did you really think I’d have a key to someone else’s apartment cut, only to get you out of depression if needed?”

She peeked at him with a new, startled expression. It wasn’t until then when she realised, how ridiculous and how gratuitous was her charge and all that annoyed reaction of hers. After all, it was nothing more than a harmless joke, and she was taken in - but as she was, she conducted the whole conversation as if she was personally offended by it.

_Stupid, stupid…_

She lowered her head, not moving in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled under her breath. “That was dumb. Please, don’t be mad. I really don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Hiccup smiled reassuringly, not minding the fact that Rapunzel couldn’t see him.

“I do.” He answered, grasping her chin and raising it a little. “But you won’t overcome it by halting 30 feet from your house.”

She also gave him a smile, even if it was weak and uncertain; she nodded, and when Hiccup shyly pulled his elbow towards her, she immediately slipped her hand below it, linking their limbs in a friendly grip.

“All right,” she resolved. “Let’s go.”

They were strolling in silence for the next couple of minutes, trying to enjoy the surrounding city. The sun was setting, piercing through the lush crowns of the neighbouring trees, reflecting on the building’s walls. Its beams changed their arrangement every time the soft gust of wind made the branches move and Hiccup couldn’t help but think that it seemed like they were jerking for a dance and he grinned.

None of the great, famous cities could stand in for their safe, peaceful Berk...

...if only he could make Rapunzel look at it with her usual admiration.

She was walking next to him now, mildly rested on the man’s arm. She was glaring aside, avoiding both his sight and conversation. He didn’t know if she really was vexed with him or if she felt guilty of her own indignation; or if she simply didn’t feel like talking. But at the same time he couldn’t forget how she’d been waving a brush before his nose and humming _“Singing in the rain”_ under the shower only a half an hour earlier. If his plan was to bring any positive results, he had to extricate _that_ part of her.

“What about the flower?” He reeled up, unexpectedly. “Are you going to add it?”

“Sorry?” She winced in astonishment and looked up. One point for him.

“On the Tree. In _The Return of the King_ there is this shot, zoomed on one of the branches, on a single, lonely bud. I’ve always liked that one. And it would look good on your wall, too.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not modelling on the film. And in the book...”

“In the book they simply plant a new tree. I know, I know.” He interrupted. “But you’ve already changed some things, why not going a little further?”

“Fairly speaking, I’ve never really thought of that.” This time she laughed quietly and shrugged. Two points. “And you have never mentioned that scene. Why do you like it so much?”

“Because of what is hidden behind it. The linking between the past and the future – showing that even something outwardly wilted and duff can give birth to something good. It’s like a new chapter, but on the understanding that you don’t cut yourself off from the previous one – even if that former chapter isn’t exactly what you wanted it to be.”

“There, there. Is that a romantic rousing up in you?”

“Only, if we refer to the Professor.”

“Pity. Uh, if only it was that easy.” She sighed and then glanced at him almost apologetically. “Sorry, I was supposed to control that.”

“I’ve heard you had your reasons.” He put his hand on hers and gave her an understanding smile. It widened when on his arm, he felt a gentle grasp. “You’re sure you don’t want to share?”

“Quite the opposite. But I can’t figure out, how.”

“I think it will be the best to start with the first thing that comes to your mind and then it will flow on its own. Don’t try to sort it now, that’s not the point.”

Now it was him who squeezed her hand. She sighed again.

“I really, _really_ believed I was over it. He didn’t leave me yesterday.”

“I told you, it doesn’t matter. Besides, even if it wasn’t yesterday, it wasn’t that long ago, either. How much is it, four months?”

“Four and a half.”

“Even if it was more, what does it change? If you treated it seriously, and I know you did, you can’t be expected to accept it and move on just like that.”

“Eugene has.” She muttered.

“Eugene is a different story. All I want is for you to understand, that there’s nothing unusual in the way _you_ take it. I’m slightly worried about your friendship with Astrid being affected… But this will be because of her behaviour, not yours.”

“Don’t say that.” She replied firmly, taking up the cudgels on behalf of her friend. “She did nothing wrong. She would never even think of starting anything with a guy of whom she’d heard so much from me.”

Hiccup frowned, still unconvinced.

“But in the end, they are together. So...”

“Listen, when he first talked up to her after this entire… _situation_ , he ended up with his hair soaked with beer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know. There are women who, finding themselves in such a position, simply gush their drinks in a man’s face; Astrid stands up from her sit and cold-bloodedly pours the content of your mug right on the top of your head. It seems that she would’ve gladly given him a few bruises, too, if Heather hadn’t been there to stop her.”

“Okay, that actually sound very much like Astrid. But still, it didn’t end there. How did you even find out about them?”

“Heather let it slip. Astrid immediately declared she wanted no truck with him and cut the conversation off. But later on it turned out that she’d had a crush on him for a long time and the only reason why she’d started to avoid him, was me.”

“They know each other? I mean, besides both knowing you?”

“They’ve been working together in a bar for the past six months. Hiccup, it’s almost impossible _not_ to know someone here.”

“True.”

“Anyway, I tried to get some sense into her and explain, that she can’t reject somebody only because they used to flirt with her friend. She obviously didn’t want to listen, but I’ve managed to convince her. And apparently, it’s working.”

Silence fell between them. Hiccup couldn’t have missed the sadness hidden under the girl’s calm edge; once again he was forced to ask himself how on earth was it possible, that people of this sort even existed. The silence didn’t last long.

“You’re way too good for him. For both of them.”

“Too good, too bad, not good enough… What does it even mean? If you care, if you… love, then you’ll always feel like you don’t deserve the other person. But if you keep thinking that, then you’ll never achieve anything. Besides, it’s not like Eugene is some kind of a cad who seduced me, and then left me for the first girl he saw; you know that much. He didn’t fool me, he didn’t cheat on me – if he had, I’d never try to persuade Astrid to give him a chance. And I prefer to think that we simply didn’t match. That’s all.”

He made no answer, quietly weighing her utterance. Who knew, maybe she was right? After all, her _fiancé manqué_ was a very decent man and, frankly speaking, even his breakup with Rapunzel was done properly. Only, Astrid…

“It still doesn’t feel right. Isn’t it awkward for her to date someone, who still means so much to you?”

“Probably. That’s why we both agreed that a separation would make us good. Besides,” She laughed. “I am the one wandering around at night with her ex, aren’t I?”

Hiccup raised his sight to the sky.

“Now that’s a nice comparison. Do I really have to remind you that _we_ are not a couple?”

“Details.” She shrugged and after a moment, added, “The one thing I’m afraid of is that I won’t get over it any time soon; if I do at all.”

“Nonsense. If I managed to get over Astrid Hofferson, then you’ll surely get over Eugene.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I am _always_ right.”

“Oh, sure.” She raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully; she giggled.

“What again?”

“I just remembered how you first came to see me, but it was Astrid who opened the door. I wish you could’ve seen your face.”

“Well, that was a little… embarrassing.” His free hand was on his neck again, massaging it nervously. “Nevertheless, you really could’ve warn me.”

“How?” She bridled. “Neither of you had never mentioned the other one!”

“That’s impossible, you could pry anything out of me.”

“Apparently, not. Perhaps it is because we’d only know each other for a month at the time.”

“Perhaps.”

“But you know, I’m really happy you’ve managed to resolve it so well. It would be distressing to have two friends, still bearing grudge for the old times’ sake.”

“I suppose we like each other too much to do so.” Hiccup replied with a particularly pensive expression, which she could by no means explain. Could it be that he also was afflicted with their friend’s new choice?

“Do you miss her?”

“Who, Astrid?”

“Yes.”

“No, of course not.” He denied, shaking his head vigorously. “Why would I?”

“Just a random thought. You never know.”

“Seriously, that case is totally out of date. I admit, at the beginning, it was hard. It was… awful. Day and night, I tried to put it in my mind that it was the right decision, made for the sake of both… But you probably know that this kind of explanation hardly changes the way you actually feel. But I’ve already told you – I’m over it.”

“So you never wonder what it could be like?”

“Not really. I used to miss the idea, but that’s as far as it got.”

She glanced at him searchingly, not fully understanding what her friend had in mind.

“You know, the first love. A crush that had lasted almost from Primary School, then my gaining her sympathy, friendship, mutuality at last… There are times when you’d truly want it to look this way. So that first love would turn out to be the only one. The dreamed one. The last one.”

“I’ve always thought that’s how the naive teenager girls imagine it.”

“Well, they’re not alone.”

“Then you have to admit that your romanticism overreaches the borders of Middle Earth.” She elbowed him gently, content with her own remark. Hiccup didn’t reply; in this case, she decided to resume their previous topic, and ask the question that had been bothering her all along. “How did you learn not to think of her?”

Now he shrugged, pondering for a while.

“I guess it wasn’t such a big deal, after all. A high school romance, undoubtedly pleasant and sweet but that’s all it was. Maybe it could be a bigger thing, except it’s not. Plus the fact we broke up almost three years ago is quite a helpful thing.”

“ _We?_ ”

“No nitpicking, please. She broke up and I pretended to agree. Either way, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Either way, you haven’t been on a single real date since then, not to mention any serious relationship.”

He glanced at her unenthusiastically. The last sentence she’d pronounced had clearly tripped him up, even though he knew it was free from the usual tartness. It also might have been the reason why it did.

“It’s not exactly like that.” He mumbled, aggrieved.

“Toothless doesn’t count.”

The boy snorted in response, however, hearing her repressed chuckle, he simply sighed and assured her, “Don’t worry about me. I have my reasons, too, but they have hardly anything to do with Astrid.”

He was afraid, for a moment, that Rapunzel would try to get the details out of him; he felt gratitude seeing that the girl accepted his explanation and refrained from asking further questions. He was well aware he couldn’t answer any of them.

She was right. It had been almost three years since his first, great romance; and while Astrid, despite her choosy taste, was happily involved in the third serious relationship, he remained single. Of course, he turned all the comments on the matter away with a shrug, but that didn’t stop his friend from worrying. And they never failed to remind him of that, in their own, characteristic ways.

His cousin, Scott, couldn’t abstain from jeering at his alleged diffidence, which was said to preclude his impressing the opposite sex.

Heather, however gentle and discreet, did her best to convince him to forget Astrid and try his luck with someone else.

And last, but not least, the Twins, who, professing the law of directness, with the greatest joy led him to various accidents. Those, in their understanding were supposed to give him an opportunity of establishing an intimate relation with all kinds of _belles_ , chosen by the siblings themselves. For some incomprehensible reasons all the candidates were ginger.

Hiccup took their good advices, letting them believe they’d managed to guess the reason of his loneliness correctly, simultaneously laughing at the knowledge of how mistaken they all were. For all this time the explanation was living right under their noses, and they seemed almost determined not to see it.

And it was so simple.

He smiled at his own thoughts, for the thousandth time remembering the actual reason of his foregoing demeanour. This very reason was now sauntering by his side, tightening her fingers on his forearm. It had long, golden hair and marvellously deep, green eyes, that observed the surrounding world with such an awe. It had a petite nose, sprinkled with a whole lot of freckles and small lips, subtly parted in a gentle smile. Finally, it had this unique kind of charm, so rarely found in the modern world – and it was the most astounding miracle Hiccup had ever had a chance to meet.

Was he this miserable example of a caring friend, deprived of hope of his love being requited? He very much doubted it. He’d never felt particularly wronged by the circumstances, and he surely was far away from playing the part of a martyr, following the object of his affection like a shadow. In his relationship with Rapunzel, one of the things he valued most was their undisputed equality – how many times did she spend an evening, sobbing in his sleeve, only to lend an ear to his own moaning in the next? Of course, she caught his attention at the very beginning; a single meeting was enough for him to realise he wanted to develop their fresh acquaintance – because she was sweet and helpful, yet brilliant; kind, and confident of her beliefs.

However, it was also the time when Eugene Fitzherbert was looming on the horizon, and Hiccup could do nothing, except yielding, assuming the necessary role of the girl’s best companion. So he became her friend, her brother almost, and only deep inside there was a hidden, undesired question: _“what if…?”_

It all got complicated four months back.

He well remembered standing at the door of his old mate, Edward Ingerman – _whom nobody called anything else but_ _**Fishlegs** _ – waiting for the boy to leave the apartment himself. He held a box in his hands, a very heavy one, filled with the most various trinkets, whose destiny he couldn’t even imagine, and wondered why on the deuce was Fishlegs keeping them; but, well. He’d promised him to help with the removal and that was exactly what he was doing.

While he was waiting, his phone vibrated, announcing an advent of a message. Unhurriedly, he pulled the device out of his pocket and checked the in-box. It was Heather who’d texted him.

“ _We’ve got a crisis. Raps locked herself in a room and refused to talk. She says she’s feeling unwell, but something’s clearly off. Fitzherbert, if you ask me.”_

By some miracle, she let him in, apparently convinced that _he_ would be able to understand her. Or maybe she simply knew that he wouldn’t ask all those questions she did not want to answer? He spent good couple of hours with her then, talking, listening, drawing her attention from the painful topic and allowing her to bring it back when he felt she needed it. Trying to buck her up as well as he could.

At the same time, he could not miss the chance that situation gave him. No matter if wanted it or not, if he was ready, or not, the ray of hope had flared up, not letting him withdraw to his previous, safe position. Forced to rethink the case once more, he finally sorted out the feelings he didn’t even think existed, coming to the conclusion that was both fantastic and terrifying.

Two years of his friendship with Rapunzel didn’t decline his involvement in the slightest – on the contrary, it gave it that depth, which can never be found in a naive infatuation and the so-called love at first sight. It didn’t take long before the young man could neatly state what he really desired. His feeling toward his fair-haired friend were more than clear and Hiccup knew he was ready to take their relationship on the whole new level.

He’d spent the past four months wondering what he’d have to do to make her take that step, too.

“Hiccup…?” Rapunzel’s voice roused him from his meditation. He winced, surprised, and turned towards her immediately. “Is there any specific destination we’re heading to, or are we just scrolling with no target at all?”

“I have a few ideas.” He replied absent-mindedly, trying to gather his thoughts. “But we can just scroll or… maybe _you_ have any wishes?”

“Not at all.” She shook her head and the thick plait swayed on her back. “Lead the way, wherever you want. I’m good.”

He smiled awkwardly and bit his lower lip.

“I zoned out, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“For how long exactly?”

“A few minutes.”

“Few meaning two or…”

“Oh, does it matter?” She laughed. “Two or eight, I really don’t mind. Although, I’d like to know what absorbed you so much.”

“Oh, really? I’m not sure if I want to share my most protected secrets with _you_.”

“That hurt, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, you do remember that I’m the one responsible for the tactic side of your romantic plans? So you’ll have to tell me anyway, sooner or later. Maybe it will be best to do it at once.”

“And you’re obviously convinced that it’s all about my affairs.” He gave her a disappointed look, however, seeing her innocent face, finally brightened up with joy, he conceded. His own visage gained a more serious expression when, with all his straightforwardness, he answered the question she’d never really asked.

“I was thinking about you.” He started, surprised with the tranquillity of his own voice. “I remembered how you’d looked at the very beginning and I dare say that the difference is significant. Really, Raps, you have no idea how happy I am to see your condition changed so much. And it’s all for the better.”

“That’s probably because I feel much better, too.” She answered, squeezing his arm again. “Not only better than four months ago, but also three, two.. Better than last week or even today’s morning, when I was fighting that awful tree. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Before he had a chance to respond to that unexpected compliment, he felt Rapunzel’s grip tightening as she herself shifted closer to him, and snuggled her face onto his shoulder just a moment later.

“Thank you Hiccup. It wouldn’t make any sense without you.”

He had absolutely no idea how to answer her. That stupid, _meaningless_ gesture made his heart pound like a hammer and he could only hope she did not hear that. He wanted to stop and embrace her, just like he did that very morning, except something was telling him it wasn’t the best of ideas. Not yet.

So they kept walking, and he knew that even if he was to wait forever, he would _never_ give her up.


	4. Chapter 4

****_**'Darling, just hold my hand**_  
 _ **Be my girl, I'll be your man**_  
 _ **I see my future in your eyes'**_

* * *

“Can I finally open my eyes?” She asked impatiently, waiting for Hiccup to bring to a close that unbelievably important business that made them stop there in the first place.

“Absolutely not. Calm down, Raps, nothing’s happening.”

“Oh, right. It’s just me, standing still in the middle of a city, forbidden to look at anything, while you’re busy with your shady deals. I guess I should be grateful for you not leaving me somewhere.”

The boy glanced at her questioningly and raised his left brow.

“You’ve only been standing here for two minutes and I’m like six feet away. Thank you kindly.” He added, turning to an elder shop assistant as she’d handed him the object he’d asked for. He passed her the cash with one hand, taking the elongated, delicate item with the other; he slipped it into his bag, in a way the upper part of it would poke out of its main pouch. “Have a good night.”

“But you’ve been making a blind woman of me, and I still don’t know why. What is it all for?”

“You ordered me to decide where we’re going, so now you must let me do it my way.” He answered calmly, approaching her. “Stop freaking out, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“But why won’t you tell me anything more?”

“Surprise!”

“Remember what I told you about _surprises_ this morning?”

“Of course I do. Only then you were talking about some hypothetical, imaginary stranger, while I have to deal with _you_. And I’m well aware of how much you love being amazed.”

Even with her eyelids down, she was still capable of rolling her eyes.

The dark-haired man didn’t seem to care much about that silent commentary, and, having pulled his elbow toward her, he cleared his throat meaningfully.

“My arm is at your service. Will you allow me?”

He hoped his anticipation had been correct and that Rapunzel’s whining showed nothing, except her usual eagerness for teasing him. When the girl didn’t respond to his proposition, he nudged her softly. She didn’t even flinch.

“Hey.” He tried again, feeling his confidence slowly going away. O, no. Not today. “You’ll huff at me only because I’m trying to make the evening pleasant for you? Come on, you’re not like that. There’s one more place where I want to take you, however, it will be rather hard for you to get there without a guide – and it’s important that it would remain a surprise. So you can either take my arm, as you have so far, or I’ll be forced to keep my promise and sling you over my shoulder, taking you there by force. I thought you preferred to avoid that.”

“Anything, but this.” She replied, eventually. Relieved, Hiccup noticed that the corners of her mouth were twitching from the laugh she was trying to hold back. He sighed inwardly. For now, it looked like he’d managed to bring back that most cheerful Rapunzel – he couldn’t let her escape again.

He felt his friend’s arm carefully interlocking with his, but, showing not the half of that enthusiasm, which had characterised her grip just a moment earlier. It was much more careless this time, and the man couldn’t deny that the change didn’t please him in the slightest. He quietly rebuked himself. Even though with difficulty, he managed to chase away the intrusive thoughts, and slowly set off in the direction of their mysterious destination, constantly making sure Rapunzel was not in the danger of stumbling over any of the numerous obstructions.

“Have I ever been there?” She asked almost immediately, hoping to avoid the uncomfortable silence. “Have I ever been to that special place to which you’re dragging me now?”

“And why did you think I made you close your eyes?” Hiccup answered with a question. “Of course you have.”

“It’s on Berk?”

“In its very heart.”

“Then I’ve been there for sure. Why won’t you tell me -”

“Because of that exactly. You know the place and you’d guess what I am up to in no time; and that would spoil most of the effect. That wouldn’t make much sense, would it?”

“Well, _maybe_.” She nodded pensively. “But I will like it?”

“If you don’t, I will be quite disappointed myself. But the spot is really charming; I think I can remember you saying you liked it, and there shouldn’t be too many people there at this time. Plus the weather is on our side.”

“It’s beautiful.” The girl’s voice was once again resonating with her usual dreaminess, finally taking over the recent anxiety. “The sky is so wonderfully clear, that I think I saw more stars than I have for the entire month. Or at least it was twenty minutes ago, when I was still allowed to admire it.” She laughed shortly.

“I guarantee you that nothing has changed since then. Are you sure you’re not a little chilly in that shawl?”

“Yes. It’s much warmer than it may seem – besides, it’s not that cold in general. So not only I know the place, but I also like it?”

“There again. Be patient, Lily.”

“You’re pretty taken with those names, huh?”

“You were the one complaining about the silly nicknames, right?”

“You’ve heard that? I thought you were more interested in _The Return of the King_.”

“You’re always complaining about them.”

“Perhaps, but as long as I’m using your pseudonym, I have to deal with mine. Oh, no” she resumed quickly, hearing her friend inhaling to answer her argument. “I won’t start calling you by name. It’s beautiful, I agree, but don’t expect me to move over to it.”

“You too think that _‘_ _h_ _iccup’_ is a better description of my character?” He asked rather caustically, as if the declaration had really offended him.

It might have stung him a little, that’s all.

“That is the name I heard when I first met you, and I want to keep it this way until the end of our wretched existence, no matter what. I’m sorry, but I won’t exchange Hiccup for even the best of Alexanders.”

Maybe he would’ve protested against that new statement, had he not felt a familiar clasp on his right forearm. He smiled at the thought of his beloved friend – no, not only a friend, but simply a beloved woman – was stepping so close to him, leaning on him so faithfully. She could banter with him, tease him, remind him of his oldest slips, but Hiccup knew about that incredible, enormous confidence she put in him at the same time. Today had given him a feeling of certainty, and this filled him with some kind of an amazingly joyful pride. He was honoured with the awareness of Rapunzel relying on him _that much_.

She asked how long it would take to reach their target. He calmed her, saying that they needed no more than a few minutes, and laughed, when she repeated the question just a moment later.

She really couldn’t wait.

“Now.” He stated eventually, stopping; he corrected himself at once, renewing his demand about Rapunzel keeping her eyes shut. He edged away from her, freeing their hands. “It’s alright, I’m not going anywhere. Give me a second.”

He reached to a leather bag, hanging on his left shoulder and pulled a bunch of keys out of it. The fair-haired girl frowned thoughtfully, when she heard the tinny clank. Hiccup slipped a key into the small hole and turned it.

“Just a moment. You only have to come here, yes, just like this…” He kept talking, softly pushing her forward. Standing behind her back, he was now resting his hands on the shawl on her shoulders, guiding her as gently as he found possible. “That’s it. Now, stop, you need to let me lock it. Ok, done. Give me your hands.”

The brows which Rapunzel had frowned so recently were now raised in astonishment. Noticing her lack of understanding for the command he had given, Hiccup took a place before her and explained, “Just stretch your arms in front of you, so I can grab your hands. You’re standing at the edge of the stairs, and this is the easiest – _and the safest_ – way of crossing them with your eyes closed. Please?”

She shook her head, amused, and slowly, she raised her shoulders as Hiccup ordered her to. When only their fingers met, the young man felt the familiar shiver running through his body. He still couldn’t understand why even the smallest, the most innocent gestures made him react so intensely, as if he was surprised that his organism hadn’t adjusted to them yet. But this is how it was – the butterflies were not only in his stomach, but in his chest and head as well; his heart was beating madly; and the goofy grin, which always made both Astrid and Rapunzel – _or even Heather_ – laugh, was finding a way to his face, impossible to hide.

Besides, Rapunzel wasn’t looking at him anyway. Why would he care to hide anything?

“You’ll catch me if I fall,” the girl ensured, taking a step in his direction, “Right?”

“With the greatest joy.” He answered, and almost blushed, ashamed by the realisation of how pleasant the projected situation appeared to him.

‘ _You really must stop giving me ideas.’_ A thought crossed his mind. _‘I have more than enough of my own.’_

The (un)fortunate event didn’t occur, though, and a few seconds later her feet touched something, that most probably was a gravel park alley. She fought the urge to look around; she waited. She felt Hiccup pulling her towards him and, hesitantly, she followed him in the suggested direction. He was stepping in the exact rhythm she was, guiding her in the same way he’d proposed on the stairs.

Rapunzel smiled, imaging they boy walking backwards – simultaneously, she hoped he wouldn’t stumble on the uneven ground, landing on his back, because in that case, she would surely follow after.

“You know there’s no need for holding me like this?” She suggested.

“Stop overthinking it. Feeling bad?”

“No, but I did feel a little more confident when you saw where you were putting your feet.”

“Don’t you worry about that, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you won’t fall down, dragging me along?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“And I’ve already started to believe you trusted me!” The man sighed theatrically, and shook his head. “How naive of me.”

“But of course I trust you, I’m just concerned about your general condition.”

“Look, just let me lead, alright? I know it’s not exactly your wheelhouse, but please, try. Like you do in the waltz – one, two, three, one two, three…”

“Are you really dancing?” This time Rapunzel laughed quite openly, doing her best to adapt to the sudden change of pace. She couldn’t miss how smoothly Hiccup himself had done it. “I didn’t think I’d ever see it again. Or feel it. Either way, you’re doing pretty well.”

Hiccup beamed at the praise.

“Better than when you first started to teach me?”

“When I started to teach you, you seemed not to be able to count to three. And you call yourself an architect.”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t _that_ bad. Besides, I think I’ve improved on that, haven’t I?”

“But I’m sure you’re still stooping.”

“Only because I have to lead you quite literally. Just wait until you see my framing!”

She didn’t respond at once.

“Have you been practising since then? Some dancing courses I’ve never heard of?”

“I have never in my life danced with anyone but you. And that old broom in my flat, but I don’t think it counts. It doesn’t reproach me for my posture.”

“Were you really dancing with a broom?”

“We made a really pretty couple.”

“If you say so. But weren’t you supposed to dance that waltz with your mother? That was the reason for even starting all this practising, right?”

“Oh, yes.” Only this moment the boy remembered the great wedding anniversary, celebrated by his parents during the previous year; an anniversary that became a pretext for his very first dancing attempts. “Yes, yes, I was dancing with her then. Actually, it turned out better than I expected.”

“So it worked out?”

“I certainly succeeded in astonishing them all. Didn’t I tell you about it?”

“You did, I suppose… I must’ve forgotten it. But I’m glad I could help. Who knows, maybe there is a dancer hidden in you.”

“Oh, no, don’t even think of it. It’s enough you made a romantic out of me today, it’s more than I could wish for. I don’t dance. I could have mastered waltz, but ask me to dance anything else, and I’ll stumble over my own prosthetic after the first bar.”

She was ready to express her demur, when Hiccup stopped, not bothering to give out a warning; if it wasn’t for her perfect reflex, she would have walked straight into him.

“We’re here.” She heard.

She raised her eyebrows again, waiting for the upcoming instructions. For the last time this evening, her friend made her move, turning a little, apparently wanting to take her off the alley. It wasn’t until then, when they stopped talking, that she became aware of the surrounding silence, so uncommon for a city they both lived in.

It wasn’t a silence of void, the one she could be expecting in a stiltedly muffled room, nor the natural stillness, interrupted by nothing but the nature itself. She could still hear the distant drone of cars, speeding on the streets; the talks of passers-by; the sound of music, coming from behind the ajar windows, different, accordingly to their listeners taste. But all of those sounds were muted, as if they were separated from the rest of Berk with a not fully physical wall.

There was only one place that made her feel like this – but there was no way she could visit it at this hour.

“Ok. You can stop now.”

Hiccup was speaking quietly, clearly not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere around them. The girl he was guiding halted, not saying a word, though inwardly wondering if she could really treat that “station” as the last one. But it was only a moment later, when she felt her friend letting her hands out of his gentle grip, and she understood, that this time she truly was at the destination of their mysterious journey.

She heard Hiccup passing her furtively, and she involuntarily turned her head, as if she wanted to follow him with her sight. With her eyelids still shut the gesture made no sense and Rapunzel shook her head thinking of her own silliness. She smiled under her nose, listening carefully to the nightly noises, echoing around her. Her companion was bustling behind her back; if she’d been allowed to look at him then, she would’ve seen him laying both his own leather bag and her linen one on a bench – the latter had been taken from her much earlier, before they had entered this strangely quiet space. Instead, she was standing, lost in thoughts, focused on the sounds approaching her from before her, and pondering if the rustle she heard was in fact what she thought.

Her contemplation was interrupted by Hiccup’s firm voice.

“Take off your shoes.”

With difficulty, she refrained from turning on her heel and giving him a disbelieving glare. She crossed her arms instead, and in inquired shortly, “Excuse me?”

“You’ve heard me. Take off your shoes.”

“Why?”

“Raps, for once in your life, could you just carry out my order, not asking a million of questions first? Please, just do it.”

“With my eyes closed?”

“If you can, then yes.”

She sighed as loudly as she could, but she obeyed. Unhurriedly, the girl unbuckled the straps of her light sandals and, having straightened up, she slowly slid her petite feet out of them, dipping them in the luxuriant grass, already wet with the evening dew.

That was the moment when Hiccup let her open her eyes.

For the first few moments she was convinced she was dreaming. But there she was, standing on a huge park glade, encircled by enormous, ancient oaks, which were probably older than Berk itself. In front of her, there was a marvellous fountain, shining with thousands of reflections, flickering on the flowing streams of water, humming in a perfect harmony, as if it was playing a melody composed beforehand. The sky had lost nothing of its former clarity and Rapunzel needed more that those few seconds to bring herself to believe that what she saw was happening for real.

However, as soon as she did, her thoughts turned to the dark-haired boy, to whom she owed all of those feelings. She wanted to run towards him and throw her arms around his neck, not knowing how on earth could she express her still rising gratitude; but when she turned back to put her intention into practice, she hesitated. And the reason for it was this: Hiccup was not looking at her with his casual, ironic expression reflecting on his freckled face, waiting for her reaction. He wasn’t bustling zealously, enforcing his own, secret ideas, either.

Standing just a few steps from her, he wasn’t looking at her at all. With his hands laced behind his back, he was strenuously staring at the ground beneath him, as if reflecting upon some highly important issue. Indeed, the debate he was now having with his own thoughts was one of the hardest – _and most disturbing_ – he had ever faced.

Only then did he acknowledged the glare his beautiful friend had fixed on him. He jerked up his head, straightening automatically, although he still kept his arms behind him. He glanced at her attentively, trying to guess if his plan had worked out, arousing at least a part of the impression he he had hoped to make. In her eyes, he noticed joy he’d been missing for moths.

It did work out.

“How did you do this?” She asked, feeling the tears filling her eyes, which this time she had no intention fighting. “The place, the time...”

“Isn’t that what you’ve dreamt of ever since coming to Berk?” Hiccup responded quietly, gazing at her with a tentative smile. “To see its greatest garden brighten up with the moonlight, to watch the white fountain -”

“Dancing barefoot around it.”

“Well, looks like you’re dream is coming true.”

“But… how?” She dithered again. The last thing she wanted was spoiling the moment with unnecessary questions, but not knowing the answers for them, she was ready to conclude, that it was all nothing more than an incredibly delightful dream.

“How did I break into the museum park an hour after closing?” The man laughed. “Quite legally, in fact. I asked Gobber to borrow me the keys, and all he demanded was not to give him away before my Dad.”

“The charms of being a Mayor’s son, huh?”

“As you can see, your Godfather being a custodian can be much more profitable.”

He lowered his sight again, setting his teeth. He inhaled deeply, looked straightly into her eyes, obviously filled with curiosity and started his speech.

“Raps, you know me well enough to realise that I hardly ever do things without having a good reason for it. And today is no exception. Of course, I hoped this little trip would lift your spirits a little, and distract you much enough to make you forget about all the thoughts that have been bothering you so much lately, but… that wasn’t the only cause.” He was weighing his words carefully, making sure his friend would understand his intentions correctly. For once, he really had to speak clearly. “It’s not a coincidence that I brought you here today. You know why?”

She shook her head.

“Do you remember how we met?” He tried once more, approaching her; he was afraid to sound too seriously and hoped, that the recollection would give his declamation its casual, playful tang.

“You doused my own coffee on me?” She chuckled softly. “On the very first day after my arrival to Berk.”

“Yes, that’s it. Very typical of me, I’m afraid.”

“You’ve never explained to me what had angered you so much.”

“Does it matter? It gave me an opportunity to start one of the most important of my acquaintances, so, whatever it was, I’m glad it occurred.”

She looked down, suddenly feeling abashed.

“I really owe you a lot.” He continued. “I don’t know what would’ve happened of me if you hadn’t appeared in that dingy café that day. And you probably don’t realise that, but it’s been exactly two years since that accident… I thought I should thank you for all this time, one way or another.”

Cautiously, he moved his arms from behind his back.

“Happy anniversary, _Rapunzel_.”

She almost jumped, surprised by the sight in front of her. Her best friend was standing before her, reaching his hands in her direction – and a white, slender rose was being kept between his fingers. It surely was the last thing she could expect. She glanced at the rose – she glanced at him. He also was gazing at her questioningly, a bit teasingly maybe, and yet, there was some special tenderness shining in his eyes, which she didn’t know, nor she’d ever noticed before.

Or maybe it was just the night light playing with her senses?

With her hand slightly trembling, she reached out for the dedicated flower, not wanting Hiccup to think that thegift wasn’t appreciated. She peeked at him again, and smiled gratefully. She had no idea how could she possibly repay for all of his kindness.

“So much trouble, so much preparations, because of the date you shouldn’t even remember. Why?”

“You know, just because it’s not a romantic anniversary, doesn’t mean it’s not an important one.”

Rapunzel looked away again, focusing her gaze on the rose she kept in her hands. She understood that something was changing, that with all Hiccup’s gentleness, his words carried more than just an exclamation of joy, caused by their friendship. His whole behaviour seemed to be a declaration, discreet, yet firm, and the flower she was now fiddling with was the best proof of it. But what if she couldn’t answer himin the similar way?

At the same time she truly felt she could get used to that. To Hiccup, taking her for long, night walks. To the flowers given by him – not the splendid, overdone bunches, but unpretentious white roses, as the one she’d just got. And that wouldn’t have to mean resigning from their foregoing, friendly relationship.

Yes, she certainly could get used to the romantic side of Hiccup.

The music playing in the distance became louder. It wasn’t _that disrespectful junk_ , as Hiccup would usually call it, but a calm melody, rich with the multitude of instruments. Rapunzel looked up at her friend, beaming again.

“Is that a waltz?”

“I believe so.” Hiccup smiled, seeing a sparkle in her eyes. He had no doubts about the girl understanding the message, hidden behind his small gesture. If after all of this she still could be looking at him like that, he didn’t have a single reason for regrets. He knew what to do. “May I?”

She nodded and gave the man her hand, letting Hiccup lead her to the centre of the glade. As she eventually found herself in his arms, she couldn’t _not_ remember the last time she had a chance to experience anything of the kind, when she herself was teaching him those few basic moves. She never would have assumed, that the skills she had imparted to him would be used in such circumstances. But she was no longer surprised. Barefooted, she was dancing a waltz with possibly the most important person in her life, and all she wanted to bother herself with was not to spoil the moment with her own inattention.

The music ceased, but they were still drifting and spinning, not only smiling, but laughing with all their hearts. When they finally stopped, none of them thought of moving away from their partner. For a next couple of moments, they were just standing still, too afraid to move, and only their gazes expressed how much it meant for both of them – his, bold and ready – and hers, uncertain and confused, although just as eager. Not for the first time Hiccup felt like leaning towards her. Not for the first time, he restrained.

And that was another thing which made Rapunzel feel grateful.

“Will you wait for me?” She whispered, fear reflecting in her big, green eyes.

Hiccup hold his breath. He didn’t dare to dream of such a response.

“As long as it takes.”

She grinned, calmed and with no more hesitation, she rested her cheek on his chest. Hiccup pulled her even closer, and this time, he put a long, loving kiss on her hair – the kiss he didn’t venture to give just a few hours earlier.

Soon enough they both agreed it was high time to come backhome. When the metal gate had eventually closed behind them, Hiccup joined the girl waiting for him nearby, and together, they headed in the right direction. They didn’t manage to make even few steps, when Rapunzel broke the silence.

“We’ll be alright, won’t we?”

The dark-haired boy looked at her and nodded confidently.

“Of course we will. Who, if not us?”

She nudged him teasingly, but even that didn’t force him to take off her his adoring gaze, which he finally didn’t have to hide. And then, he laughed, as under her left eye he had noticed a little detail, that in all his previous excitement he’d somehow managed to forget.

“Now what?” She blurted, not understanding the sudden outburst of joy.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. You know you still have paint on your face, right?”

“What?” She brushed her cheek with her fingers. “Can’t be.”

“Sorry, but that’s exactly how it is.”

He laughed again, embracing her with his arm. On her part, she sighed, shook her head and mumbled, “I really am a mess.”

“Nonsense. As for me, you look perfect.”

The rest of their journey drew on in the very similar atmosphere. And when Hiccup visited the green room the next day, he found a finished, ideally copied White Tree, proudly spreading its branches on the wall.

And a delicate, fresh bud on it.


End file.
